


A Glimpse of Something More

by arliddian



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Steve Rogers, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Protective Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23309626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arliddian/pseuds/arliddian
Summary: Steve sometimes catches glimmers of something more behind your playful smiles and pop culture references. He can’t help being intrigued.Or, five times you interrupted Steve and one time he interrupted you.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 254





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea one night and thought it’d be a quick one-shot write-up, but… well, things got away from me. It’s been a nice distraction from the state of the world, though! It's been years since I last wrote any fanfic, and this is my first foray into the MCU and reader-insert fiction, so feedback is welcome but please go easy on me!

"We've got a new recruit," Fury announced, wasting no time as he strode into the briefing room where Steve was seated with Tony and Natasha. With the gesture of a finger on his tablet, holographic screens flickered to life at the head of the conference table, displaying your S.H.I.E.L.D. profile.

"She's cute," Tony commented, taking a sip of his drink. Natasha caught Steve’s eye and rolled her own, but as Steve turned his attention to your image on the screen, he had to admit to himself that Tony was right. There was no denying that you were a beautiful woman.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Fury continued as if Tony hadn't spoken. "One of our lab technicians at the Hub. Or at least she was, until—"

"'The Incident'," Natasha read aloud from the screens, raising an eyebrow. "What's 'The Incident'?"

In answer, Fury pulled up a security video taken from one of the Hub laboratories, showing you in a labcoat and safety glasses, flitting between tapping away at a laptop and fiddling with a complicated-looking set-up of beakers and equipment. Just as you reached out to make an adjustment, something let off a bright spark, and a moment later an explosion rocked the screen. Steve felt his jaw clench at the sound of your scream, your pain evident even through the tinny audio of the security feed. The video footage was marred by static for a few seconds, and when the picture came clear again, the laboratory was in complete disarray and you were nowhere to be seen.

"An Enhanced?" Natasha asked Fury. 

He nodded. “Though as you can see, not entirely by choice.”

"So what's her party trick?" Tony questioned, leaning forward to more closely examine the footage of the trashed laboratory. "Some kind of teleportation?"

"Not exactly."

The video was replaced with an extract from a report. Steve read the words _"subject has the ability to control her own macroscopic quantum wave function, allowing for quantum tunnelling"_ and his eyebrows drew together in confusion. The expression on Natasha's face reassured him that he wasn't the only one who had no idea what that meant.

"Quantum tunnelling—what is that?" Steve asked, glancing between Tony and Fury.

"She can pass her atomic particles through the spaces between the atoms of other objects," Fury explained matter-of-factly. "She can make herself and anything she touches completely intangible."

"She can walk through walls, Cap," Tony summarised, an explanation Steve found much more helpful. "Like a ghost." He sounded impressed.

Steve frowned. "How is that possible? And what happened to her after the explosion? It looks like she just—"

"Vanished? Got vaporised? Nope, I actually just fell through the floor and landed in the gym. It was pretty embarrassing."

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, three heads whipped around to find you sitting at the formerly empty seat at the end of the table. 

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers. I just figured since I was already running late, I might as well make a dramatic entrance," you said with a small smile, jerking your thumb back at the solid wall behind you through which you had presumably entered the room.

“Oh, you're gonna fit right in—we're all about big dramatic entrances," Tony said. Steve could hear the smirk in his voice even without looking back at him.

Your smile widened, and Steve noticed that there was a playfulness in your eyes that had not been evident in your S.H.I.E.L.D. security ID photo, a spark that further brightened your already attractive face.

He quashed that thought before it could go any further. 

You nodded at each other person in the room, greeting them in turn. “Director Fury. Mr Stark. Agent Romanoff.”

"Y/L/N, glad you could make it." Fury gestured towards you. "Now that you've got their attention, why don't you give the Avengers here a little demonstration."

You obediently stood up, and Steve watched with wide eyes as you walked towards the Director _through_ the heavy conference table, your fingers skimming just below the surface of the metal tabletop. Your gait was easy and relaxed, as if you were just going for a walk in the park. When you reached the other end, you stood behind an empty chair and pushed it a couple of feet in front of you so that it, too, slid through the conference table, encountering no resistance whatsoever. Then you pulled the chair out of the table and sat down on it.

“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” Tony remarked, leaning back and staring at you. 

You grinned. “It is, isn’t it?” 

Fury tapped at his tablet and your personnel profile filled the screens again.

"After the Incident, Y/L/N expressed an interest in moving to field work, and we’ve been training her up for the past several months." He scrolled down through your work history to details about your training and skill set, revealing that beyond the basic self-defence training that all S.H.I.E.L.D. employees received, you had gone through additional weapons, combat and espionage training as well. "She’s just about ready for active duty. But given her capabilities, I figured I'd leave the finishing touches to you."

He clapped a heavy hand on the back of your chair and looked down at you. "You gonna be able to handle that, Y/L/N?" he asked

"Yes, sir," you replied, steadily meeting his gaze. “I’m ready.”

Fury gave you a satisfied nod. “Then welcome to the Avengers,” he said. “I’ll leave you in these capable hands.”

He began to walk out of the briefing room, but just as he reached the door, he paused and eyeballed every single person in the room. 

"Don't mess this up," he warned before sweeping out. 

Steve couldn't tell whether the comment was directed more at you or the three others seated at the table.

Silence descended for a moment, and Steve noted that you seemed a little nervous now: you were sitting up very straight with tense shoulders, your hands folded neatly in your lap.

Tony was the one who broke the awkwardness. "Well, nice to have you on board, Casper," he said airily, raising his glass to you. 

Though Steve didn't recognise the reference, he could see you relaxing a little at Tony's light-hearted salutation, an amused smirk forming on your face. 

"Casper? Really?” you asked, wrinkling your nose a little. “Seems a little… childish.”

“How about the Ghost of Christmas Past?” Tony suggested with a grin.

You laughed. “Oh, definitely not. Even if I could, there’s no way I’d take _you_ on a magical mystery tour of the defining psychological moments of your youth. I’ve heard way too many stories about you. We’d both be scarred."

Steve expelled a surprised huff of laughter. You glanced at him and flashed a bright smile, and he felt his lips quirking up automatically in response.

From the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shift, and he turned his head slightly to find her watching him with narrowed eyes and the beginnings of a smirk on her face. He shot her a look that said _What?_ , but she just gave a minute shake of her head and turned her attention to you.

"Don't worry. If you need a codename, we won't let Tony pick it," Natasha said, rolling her eyes at the man in question, who raised his hands in a _Who, me?_ gesture. "We can work out something better by the time we've gotten you up to speed and up to scratch."

“Thank God,” you sighed in mock relief. “For the record, I’m vetoing Inky, Pinky, Blinky or Clyde as well. They can’t even get through walls anyway.”

Steve glanced at Natasha in confusion, and she shrugged. Tony, meanwhile, let out a chuckle. “I think I’m gonna like you,” he said, pointing a finger at you. 

You grinned and leaned forward to rest your arms on the table, and Steve noted that the banter seemed to have put you at ease. 

"Okay, so, speaking of getting me up to speed and up to scratch,” you said, looking around the table at the three Avengers. “Where do we start?" 

“Oh, I’m sure Cap’s thinking up a plan,” Tony said breezily, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I mean, he is, technically, in charge.”

You turned to Steve. “Well then, I’m all yours, Captain Rogers,” you said cheerfully.

There was nothing flirtatious in your tone at all, but even so, the sound of those words being spoken by an attractive woman did not leave him entirely unaffected.

He was careful to keep a neutral expression as he told you mildly, “You can just call me Steve.” 

“Sorry. _Steve_ ,” you corrected yourself. He thought he caught a flicker of something a little softer in your eyes, but it was gone before he could identify it. 

You smiled at him again, that playful spark he had seen earlier lighting up your face, and as he found himself unable to resist smiling back at you, he thought, _This is going to be interesting_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago I used to write X-Men fanfic—so yes, I did borrow Kitty Pryde's powers for this story. Stick to what you know, right?  
> Casper the Friendly Ghost apparently was first published as a not-that-popular children's book in 1939 and as a cartoon in 1945 _after_ the war, so I figure Steve wouldn't have been aware of it even though it was technically around before he was frozen.


	2. A Mission

This mission had not gone as smoothly as Steve had originally anticipated. He had planned for the team to get in and out quickly and quietly, drawing as little attention as possible, but it turned out that this company was much better equipped than expected. There were a lot of trained mercenaries on the security force for what was ostensibly a medical research organisation—and a lot more of them than the original S.H.I.E.L.D. intel had suggested.

It was nothing that he and Natasha hadn’t faced before, but this was your first mission, and it was turning out to be much more dangerous for you than Steve had expected. The original plan was for the three of you to stay relatively close together on the way down to the basement laboratory, with Steve and Natasha disabling surveillance and running interference as necessary. Once you all got down there, you could slip through the walls to retrieve the device the company was using to synthesise a biological weapon. With your abilities and Steve and Natasha backing you up, it should have been a simple stealth job with minimal need for combat. But with so many additional guards stationed on every level of the building, the chances of all of you making it down to the basement without being accosted were practically nil. And since you could only maintain intangibility for as long as you could hold your breath, it wasn’t like you could stay completely untouchable for the entire duration of the mission. 

So Steve had changed tactics, sending you off towards the basement while he and Natasha caused commotions on opposite ends of the building to draw attention away from you. The only problem was that if you got into trouble, it would take longer for someone to get to you. And even though he knew you could handle yourself, had seen you in action as you trained with Natasha, had watched you working with Tony and Bruce to push the limits of your abilities—he couldn’t help but worry. 

He had now finally finished working his way through this last wave of guards on the east wing of the building. He walked past the unconscious bodies to retrieve his shield from where he'd thrown it to take down a particularly persistent mercenary.

"East wing clear," he reported over the comms as he returned the shield to his back and made his way out of the room.

"West wing clear," Natasha responded. "Making my way to the rendezvous point."

“Y/N, what's your status?” By now, you should have completed your task and be well on your way to the roof for extraction. 

You didn’t answer. Steve stopped moving and frowned. 

“Y/N? Y/N, status.”

Again, no answer. The cold fingers of fear started to wrap themselves around his chest.

“Natasha, you got eyes on Y/N?” 

“Negative.”

Steve tried one more time. "Y/N, status."

Silence.

Steve’s mouth set in a hard line and he spun on his heel, striding down the hall towards the fire stairs.

"I'm heading to the basement," he said in a tight voice as he kicked the door open and started down the stairs. "Natasha, get to the roof and stand by; we may need emergency medical—"

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” your breathless voice interrupted. "Package is secure; I’m on my way up." 

At the sound of your voice, Steve halted in place, relief flooding through him. "What happened?" he demanded, the question coming out a lot sharper than he had intended.

“Oh, you know, the usual story—met a guy; he said he would show me a good time,” you said lightly. “But he started to get a little too handsy so I had to really drill into him that no means no.”

“Some men just can’t take a hint,” Natasha agreed, her voice loud over the sound of a man’s pained shriek in the background—she had clearly encountered some company of her own on her way to the roof. "Bet you broke his heart."

"Don't know about that, but I definitely broke his nose. And maybe his collarbone."

"Are you alright?" Steve asked. You sounded normal, but he felt the need to make sure.

"I'm fine," you reassured him. “I’m nearly at the roof.”

Satisfied, he started running up the stairs. You and Natasha were ready and waiting when he emerged, and you gave him a small, sheepish smile as he walked towards you.

He looked you over, noting with concern the bruise blooming across your cheekbone, the small split in your lip. His hand twitched at his side, but he dismissed the strange urge to touch your face as a combination of adrenaline and his protective instincts.

"You sure you're okay?" he couldn't stop himself from questioning you. 

"Seriously, Steve, I'm fine," you told him nonchalantly. “I’d say ‘you should see the other guy’, but I’m not Steve Buscemi, thank God.”

The relief he had felt upon finding you mostly unharmed suddenly gave way to a bit of annoyance at your casual attitude. 

"Why didn't you check in when I asked?" he asked abruptly, frowning down at you.

A crease formed between your eyebrows. "I was a little busy," you returned, your tone hovering somewhere near _defiant_. "That guy surprised me and got a good hit in before I could ghost away. It took a little while, but I handled it and got out of there with the device, just like we planned—see? Don’t you love it when a plan comes together?" To demonstrate, you held out the large black and silver case you were carrying.

Your apparent lack of concern made Steve bristle even more. "You need to confirm your status," he admonished you, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Otherwise we assume the worst. You need to respond, even if— _especially_ if—you're in trouble. We can’t back you up if we don’t know what’s going on."

At that, your gaze flickered away. Steve pressed his lips together as he took in your guilty expression. Was he overreacting, being too hard on you? After all, everything had gone relatively well: you weren't badly hurt, you had retrieved the device, and everyone had made it out unscathed. You hadn't done anything particularly wrong.

But the memory of the cold dread that had taken hold of him when you had failed to respond gave him pause. He had _not_ enjoyed that. He didn't want to feel that way again, not when it was easily preventable. 

"Guys, extraction imminent," Natasha broke in, pointing at the approaching jet. "Get ready."

As you all headed towards the other end of the roof, Natasha drew Steve back a little behind you. In a low voice so that you couldn't overhear, she muttered, "It was her first mission. She did her best and got the job done. Don't be an asshole about one tiny mistake."

She stared him down for a moment longer, then gestured towards you with a tilt of her head. 

Steve released a small sigh. "Y/N, wait,” he called out to you. Satisfied, Natasha nodded at him and walked on past you to the waiting jet. 

You stopped moving and turned to Steve. Your tense shoulders and ramrod-straight back gave away your apprehension. It was obvious from your expression that you were expecting another rebuke. He felt a pang of guilt for taking out his heightened emotions on you. It wasn’t your fault that he felt protective of you in a way that inexplicably went beyond his general care for his teammates’ safety. 

"You did a good job," he told you simply. 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise "Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He noticed the tension in your body ease a little. “Thanks, Steve," you said quietly, offering him a small smile.

He returned it with one of his own and a short nod, and started walking again. As he moved past you, you placed a hand on his arm, halting him.

"I'm, uh–I'm sorry. For not checking in. For making you worry." Your voice was apologetic and sincere. 

“We all make mistakes,” Steve said mildly. “And worrying about you comes with the territory.”

"I know," you replied, looking up at him. "But… you carry a lot of burdens already. And I don't ever want to add to that, if I can help it. When it's something I can control."

He stared at you for a moment, taken aback by the expression on your face. There was no trace of your usual levity. Instead, there was a glimmer of something soft and earnest in your eyes, a tenderness that he had never seen before. 

It intrigued him. There was clearly some other aspect of you that you kept beneath the surface, something that you were just now allowing him to catch a glimpse of. He wondered why you had chosen to let your guard down now, in this moment, with him. 

And then suddenly the moment was over, and that mischievous twinkle returned to your eyes.

“So, not bad for a first run, huh?” You waved the case at him. “I’m basically Lara Croft.”

He shook his head, bemused as always by your references. “I don’t know about that. But you did good.”

“Looks like I’ll be able to keep up with the rest of you superheroes and super-spies just fine,” you said with a grin. He chuckled in response and followed you onto the jet.

A few minutes into the flight, Steve glanced over to where you were chatting animatedly with Natasha, no doubt giving a blow-by-blow account of your encounter with the guard. As he watched you laughing, he thought about the soft look you had given him, and wondered what it would take to see that hidden part of you again.


	3. A Cup of Coffee

"Steve!"

He was on his way out, already halfway across the S.H.I.E.L.D. lobby, but at the sound of your voice he stopped and turned to find you bounding towards him with a huge, infectious grin on your face. To his surprise, when you reached him you threw your arms around him.

"I've only been gone a couple months," he chuckled, hands coming up to rest loosely on your back.

The hug only lasted for a moment, just long enough for Steve to register the warmth of your body and the mingled scents of your shampoo and body lotion. You stepped back and he let you go immediately, though not without a twinge of regret at the loss of contact. 

“I know, but... I miss you,” you said with a crooked smile. “And Nat," you added, almost as an afterthought. "Both of you.” 

“We miss you too.”

There was a pause as he met your gaze, and he noticed with a hint of gratification that you were looking at him with that intriguing softness in your eyes. He’d become much better acquainted with that look over the past year as he’d gotten to know you as a colleague and a good friend, but it still never failed to draw him in.

You cleared your throat suddenly and glanced away, breaking the moment. When you turned back to him, your usual playful smile was back in place, and he felt oddly disappointed.

“Well, on the upside, without you guys around to cause trouble, my missions have gotten a lot quieter,” you teased. “You know, nice boring heist and espionage stuff – ghost into a building, download some files, ghost back out. Way fewer people shooting at me. More _Ocean’s Eleven_ , less _Mission Impossible_.”

“Sounds nice,” he said wryly, not even bothering to acknowledge the unfamiliar references. He knew better than that by now. 

“Plus, Clint is better company,” you continued with a shrug and a smirk. “He lets me pick the music and laughs at my jokes.” 

“Hey, I laugh at your jokes.” 

“Steve, please.” You rolled your eyes. “Eighty percent of my jokes are references to things you’ve never heard of.”

“Look, I’ve been trying to catch up, but if I wrote down every movie or TV show you ever talked about, I’d need a backpack,” he shot back, pulling his notebook from his pocket and wagging it at you. 

You laughed. “Touché.” 

As he shoved the notebook back in his pocket, you said cheerfully, “So, Hill mentioned that you’d have to get back to D.C. pretty soon, but do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

“I’ve always got time for a cup of coffee.”

“There’s a great place down the street—feel like a little walk?”

The smile you flashed him was bright and inviting, and he returned it easily as he said, “Lead the way.”

You took him to a coffee house a few blocks away. Steve could tell from your relaxed interactions with the staff that you were a regular. You looked happy and at ease as you chatted and joked with the barista, and the sound of your laughter ringing out through the small shop made him smile. 

He didn’t realise he’d been staring at you until you slid into the seat across from him and gave him a questioning look. 

“What?” you asked, brow furrowed.

He quickly shook his head. “Nothing.” 

You shrugged, eyeing him with a bit of lingering suspicion. He hoped that you wouldn’t probe further. If he was completely honest with himself, his staring had less to do with him being happy for your well-being and a lot more to do with the mischievous spark in your eyes, the curve of your lips, and the way your loose-fitting blouse hinted at the graceful lines of your body. 

Two months in Washington hadn't been long enough for Steve to forget your attractiveness, but it had apparently been long enough for him to forget how to _not_ be distracted by it.

He was very grateful when the barista came to the table with two cups of coffee and interrupted the thoughts he knew he probably shouldn’t be having about a good friend.

“So how are things back here?” he asked you after you had taken a sip.

“The same, mostly,” you answered, setting down your cup and leaning your arms on the table. “Work is good. There haven’t been any major mishaps yet. I’m enjoying it. It’s nice to be useful, but in a more hands-on kind of way than when I was working at the Hub. Getting to put all of this—” you waved your fingers through your cup, “—towards a good cause.” 

He smiled into his coffee at the casual but discreet display of your abilities. You were always careful not to draw attention to yourself when you were out and about in the general public, but you were much more blasé about your intangibility the rest of the time. He had lost count of all the times you had emerged through a solid wall for a briefing or training session, completely unconcerned about how much you startled the other occupants of the room. 

“The only thing is...” You trailed off with a dramatic sigh, and he could tell from the glint in your eye that whatever you said next was not at all meant to be a serious complaint. “Now Clint’s started calling me ‘Casper’ as well. I blame Tony. It’s the worst. I tried to get him to switch to something more badass like ‘Kayako’, but it wouldn’t stick. He said it didn't suit my personality.”

Steve shook his head slightly in puzzlement, and you grinned. 

“Kayako’s this vengeful ghost girl from a series of Japanese and American horror movies,” you clarified. “She’s super creepy and curses people with horrible violent deaths.”

“Ah,” he said with smirk. “Well, I think I might be with Tony and Clint on this one. You’re definitely more of a friendly ghost than a creepy one.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I still can’t believe you actually watched the _Casper_ movie, by the way. I told you not to bother.”

Steve raised his hands defensively. “It’s not like I could have watched the cartoons in 1945,” he protested. “I needed _some_ context for the nickname.”

“It’s called ‘Wikipedia’, Steve. Way quicker than sitting through a ninety-minute kids’ movie,” you teased. “Next time you feel like having a movie night, you should probably call me for better recommendations.” 

He smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“And you?” you asked, raising your cup to your lips again. “How’s D.C.?”

“It’s good,” he replied with a shrug. “Very… historical.”

“Oh, so you must fit right in,” you grinned. 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Walked right into that one.”

“You sure did.” You waited for him to take a sip of his coffee before pressing further. “Seriously though, how are you doing? Are you meeting people, making friends?”

“I’ve got a great team.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I meant people outside of work, Steve.” 

“I think you and I both know that this job doesn’t really lend itself to meeting a lot of people outside of work,” he said dryly.

“So, no… drinking buddies? Book club members? Workout partners?” You glanced down at your cup as you added, “… Hot dates?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. There was something odd about your tone, but you didn’t look up and your face gave nothing away about what you were thinking. A slight frown creased his forehead, but he kept his voice light as he answered, “Nah. Too busy for anything like that.”

You looked back up at him, and he was surprised to see that now-familiar softness on your face again, accompanied by a tiny smile. “Yeah. Me too,” you said quietly, your voice so low it was almost inaudible. 

There was another beat of silence as you watched him with those gentle eyes, your openness inviting his, and Steve found himself suddenly admitting, “Peggy lives in D.C. now.”

“Oh?” Something flickered in your face as you averted your gaze again. 

“Yeah. I’ve visited her a couple of times. She’s… not well.”

“Oh,” you said again, quieter this time. “Oh, Steve. I’m so sorry. That must be so hard.”

Your eyes met his again, and he was a little taken aback by the sympathetic understanding he saw in them. There was sadness written all over your face. The depth of your compassion and empathy was… unexpected. Touching. But he didn’t like the idea that he had put that sorrow in your expression, no matter what the reason. After all, these weren’t your burdens to bear.

"It's fine," he said, shaking his head and trying to sound dismissive. He gave you a tight smile and looked down at the table. "She’s lived a good, long life. Couldn’t ask for more than that. And I’m okay. I’m—"

"You don't have to do that," you cut him off gently. 

He stared at you, confused. "Do what?"

You gave him a searching, knowing look, and your lips formed a sad smile. "Pretend that you're fine."

Stunned, he just blinked at you for a moment. “I–I’m not...”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him again, shrugging as you turned your head slightly to gaze out the window. “I mean, we all do it. There’s always something we’re trying not to think about so we can keep getting up in the morning and do whatever it is we do everyday. I get it. And it’s okay if you want to keep it up.” 

He thought suddenly of the way you were always cracking jokes, trying to deflect any serious or emotional moment with humour. He thought of the glimpses he caught of your softer side, the way they only ever lasted for a brief moment before your playful smile was back in place like a mask. He wondered what it was that you tried not to think about. 

“All I’m saying is... you don’t have to,” you finished softly, turning back to him. “At least, not with me.”

He gave a start as he felt you reach out and lightly place a hand over his on the table. You gazed at him with those tender, earnest eyes, and it dawned on him that this was the longest he had ever seen you like this—so open, so unguarded. And all just to reassure him that it was safe for him to be whatever he wanted to be with you. That he was not alone.

If he had been intrigued by you before, now he was captivated.

He swallowed. “I know,” he said quietly. “Thanks.” 

After another beat, you removed your hand slowly, almost reluctantly, and Steve tried to ignore the way his hand felt strangely cold when your fingers slipped away from his skin.

Your expression changed slightly, and he saw your back straighten and shoulders tense. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he watched you. What did you have to be nervous about? 

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, your phone chirped. You checked it and gave Steve a little grimace.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve got to head back,” you sighed.

“Problem?”

You shrugged ruefully, the corner of your mouth tilting up in a wry half-smile. “Isn’t there always?”

Steve hummed in understanding. “That’s okay. I should get going anyway. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Any time.” 

He walked you out to the sidewalk, where you paused for a moment. Now that this impromptu catch-up was over, and not likely to happen again for a while, he felt reluctant to walk away. And from the way you were dawdling despite the urgent business that you had to attend to, he suspected the feeling was mutual.

“It was really good to see you, Steve,” you said finally with a smile, slipping your arms around him for another hug. This time, you held on for a little longer. He couldn’t say he minded. 

“You too. Look after yourself.”

“Only if you will too,” you returned as you started walking backwards down the street. Your smile brightened, and he could tell that whatever moment you had shared with him earlier was now well and truly over. “Get out there and make some friends you _don’t_ work with. And for God’s sake, call me before your next movie night!” 

He watched you turn and walk away, waiting until you had rounded the corner before pulling out his phone to check the time. He had been with you for less than an hour, but he could already tell that this brief interaction was going to linger in his mind long after he had returned to Washington. It was going to be hard to shake the memory of the gentle pressure of your hand over his, the vulnerability he had seen in your eyes—and the question of what you would have said to him if there had been just a little more time.


	4. A Party

“So you’re telling me there’s not one girl in this room you’d like to get to know a little better?” Sam asked Steve with an eyebrow raised. He looked around from their position at the bar. Tony’s party was in full swing, and there were dozens of people milling about, drinking and dancing and having a good time—including, of course, a number of very attractive and well-dressed women. “If I were you, I’d be re-thinking that.”

Steve took a sip of his beer. “That’s… not exactly what I said.” As he spoke, he caught sight of you halfway across the room, sitting on a couch and laughing with Maria Hill. You looked stunning in an elegant blue dress and high heels. He glanced away immediately, not wanting to give anything away, and thankfully, Sam didn’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, so there _is_ a girl?” Sam grinned. “You make a move yet?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Nothing complicated about it. You walk up to her, you say ‘Hi, I’m Captain America’, you ask her out, she says yes. Couldn’t be more simple. What girl’s gonna turn down Captain America?”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve replied with a wry smile, turning slightly to lean on the bar.

Sam nudged him. “Come on, man. Who is she? What’s stopping you?”

Steve ignored him and raised his bottle to his lips again. 

“Is she with someone else? Not into dudes? Help me out here.”

“Are you ever going to let up? You’re as bad as Nat.”

“You should be grateful you have so many friends who look out for your emotional and mental well-being,” Sam retorted. He regarded Steve steadily with a little smirk.

Steve sighed. Sam was clearly not going to let this go. 

“We… work together,” he finally admitted. “And we’ve been friends for a while. I don’t think she’s interested in—”

"Okay, you have to help me," you interrupted suddenly, appearing behind the bar seemingly from nowhere and startling both men. 

Steve sputtered a little. “Where did you come from?” he asked, glancing around, hoping to God you hadn’t heard what he had just said. 

“Through there,” you answered absently, gesturing behind you at the wall of bottles and glassware. You ghosted through the bar and moved to stand between the two friends with your back to the rest of the room, earning a low whistle and a _Whoa_ from Sam. 

Steve frowned. You were darting glances over your shoulder and your back was ramrod-straight. You were clearly spooked. 

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice, standing upright and placing a protective hand on your back, gaze sweeping the room, trying to locate the danger.

You looked up at him in confusion for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. 

"Oh God, no, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I didn't mean 'help me' as in, 'eliminate an impending threat'. I meant 'help me' as in, 'save me from an awkward social situation’. I didn’t mean to activate ‘Captain America’ mode. Go back to being Steve."

Sam chuckled and Steve shook his head with a smile, dropping his hand and relaxing back onto the bar.

You switched your attention to Sam and smiled brightly, holding out a hand. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“Another one of the Avengers, I assume,” he said as shook your hand and returned your smile with a somewhat wolfish one of his own. “How you doin’. Sam Wilson.”

“Ah, _you’re_ Sam Wilson. Steve’s told us a lot about you.”

“Hopefully only the good stuff,” Sam grinned. “But I gotta say, I don’t think he ever mentioned you. I’d have remembered something about a gorgeous woman who can walk through solid objects.”

“Is that right?” You raised your eyebrows playfully and turned to the man in question. 

“Steve, you told me you didn’t have time for non-work friends while you were in D.C.,” you teased him with a nudge. “And now I find that not only did you make a non-work friend, but he’s a charmer? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Steve could feel the tips of his ears heating up at your slightly flirtatious tone, and he was suddenly reminded of what it was like to feel invisible while standing next to a friend, wishing that a pretty dame would notice him instead. 

You turned back to Sam. “Thank you for the compliment, Sam, but I assure you that all of this—” you gestured to yourself, “—comes at a price.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 

You grinned, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him. “Not like in a _Pretty Woman_ way! I meant for me.” 

You raised a foot off the floor to indicate your strappy high-heeled sandal, grabbing onto Steve’s arm to steady yourself as you teetered a little. 

“My feet are killing me, and I’m honestly wondering if it’s worth it,” you said with a sigh. “Someone remind me why women torture ourselves for the sake of fashion.”

You replaced your foot on the floor and let go of Steve’s arm. He deliberately ignored the way his heartbeat quickened just slightly as your fingers trailed off his bicep. 

“Hey, far be it from me to tell a woman what she should or shouldn’t wear,” Sam returned, raising a hand in defence. “But for what it’s worth, you look great.” He looked over at Steve with a sly, knowing grin. “Doesn’t she, Cap?”

You turned to Steve expectantly, and he straightened up, angling his body to face you better. You lifted your hands and struck a little pose that seemed to say _Well?_ , your eyes twinkling mischievously.

He swallowed as his gaze flicked quickly down your body and returned to your face. Looking straight into your eyes, he told you, simply and honestly, “You look beautiful.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you blinked at him, and the playfulness seemed to fade away from your expression. 

“Uh… Thank you,” you murmured in response, tilting your head slightly as you stared up at him, and he thought he saw something changing in your eyes, a trace of something a little more… _heated_. 

But before he could examine it any further, you glanced over your shoulder and let out a groan.

“Oh God, I knew I couldn’t avoid him all night. He’s coming this way.”

“Who is?” Steve asked, frowning as he eyed the good-looking dark-haired man who was making his way across the room towards the bar. 

You sighed. “His name’s Joe. We used to work together at the Hub. We dated for a few months but I was never really that into it, and I broke it off before I left. I ran into him a couple weeks ago and got the impression that he wants to start something back up again. He’s mostly harmless, but pretty persistent. I didn’t realise he was gonna be here tonight.”

Steve felt his jaw clench as he watched Joe approaching, even as he mentally admonished himself that he was being completely irrational. It didn’t sound like you were interested in this guy any more, and yet he felt a cold stab of jealousy anyway.

“If this guy thinks I’m the Rachel to his Ross, he is seriously mistaken,” you muttered, your back and shoulders visibly stiffening.

It was obvious when Joe spotted you: his eyes lit up and he began walking faster towards the bar. You turned to Steve and reached out to grab his hand. Startled, he stared down at you, and you gave him a pleading look.

“Just… back me up, okay?” you hissed, squeezing his hand once before dropping it and plastering a smile on your face. 

Steve barely had time to smooth away his confusion before Joe finally reached you. 

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Joe! Hi,” you greeted the newcomer with false brightness, turning towards him. The man faltered slightly when he saw your companions, but he covered it with a winning smile.

You moved straight on to introductions. “Joe, this is Sam—” Sam raised his glass in greeting, and Joe nodded at him with a smile, “—and… well, you probably know who Steve is.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose as recognition dawned. “Captain America! It’s a real honour,” he said, holding out a hand.

Steve acknowledged him with a tight nod and a very brief handshake that was maybe a touch too firm to be friendly. 

Introductions over, Joe’s attention immediately returned to you. Steve decidedly did _not_ like the way the other man’s gaze roved slowly up and down your body, lingering at the neckline of your dress. 

“So, Y/N, it sure is a nice surprise to see you here,” Joe said with a charming smile. “Though given that Tony’s the host, I guess I should have known.” 

“Mm, yes, we do work together,” you replied blandly. 

“Well, since we’re both here tonight, I was thinking we could… catch up?” Joe started drawing nearer to you, and you stepped back, inching closer to Steve. “We could find somewhere a little quieter, reminisce about old times. All the fun we had together.” 

The innuendo was subtle but clearly intentional, based on the heat in Joe’s expression. Steve frowned. No, he definitely did _not_ like this man.

“No thanks, Joe. I don’t really want to leave the party just yet,” you said politely, edging even closer to Steve.

Without warning, you picked up his hand and pulled his arm around you, resting your own hand on top of his over your hip. Steve shot you a look, and you returned it briefly with wide, beseeching eyes. 

Was this what you meant when you asked him to back you up? Because if so… he could definitely roll with it. 

The movement of your hand had drawn Joe’s attention, and Steve found himself tightening his grip on you possessively as the other man took in the situation.

“Oh, uh, are you two…?” Joe stammered, gaze darting between you and Steve. 

Instead of answering, you raised one shoulder in a light half-shrug, flashing a coy smile up at Steve before looking back at Joe. Your fingers began to glide feather-light circles on the top of Steve’s hand. Following your lead, Steve smiled back down at you, conscious of the charade that you were trying to pull off, but he grew very still at the gentle movement of your fingers. He hoped that you couldn’t tell how much your actions were affecting him, how your flirtatious smile had set off a tiny flutter in his chest, how his heartbeat was speeding up in response to your touch. 

He chanced a quick glance over at Sam, and judging by the subtle arch of his friend’s eyebrow, he was clearly forming ideas of his own about Steve’s relationship with you. 

Joe began to step back, clearly intimidated by the idea that his ex-girlfriend was now apparently seeing Captain America, and Steve felt a flash of a savage kind of satisfaction. 

“I, uh… I guess we’ll have to catch up another time,” Joe said to you, flicking another nervous glance at Steve. 

You smiled sweetly at him. “Yeah, maybe another time. See you around.”

As Joe walked off, you finally relaxed, shoulders slumping, but to Steve’s surprise, you made no move to step away. In fact, you leaned into him a little more, and he swallowed as he felt your body press closer to his side. 

“Thank God that’s over,” you sighed in relief. “Maybe now he’ll get the hint and leave me alone.” 

Sam chuckled. “He seemed smart enough to know not to mess with Captain America’s girl,” he said, with a sidelong glance at Steve.

You laughed. “Let’s hope so.” With a smile up at Steve, you lightly patted the hand that was still resting on your hip and said, “Thanks for the assist, Captain.”

He released you immediately, suddenly conscious that he might have been crossing some kind of boundary by holding onto you for so long. As he shifted slightly to regain a little more distance from you, your eyes flashed with something Steve couldn’t quite identify. Maybe… disappointment? 

Sam held out an opened beer to you. “Figure you could use a drink after all of that.”

You accepted it with an appreciative grin. “Mister, _you_ are a gentleman,” you said, clinking your bottle against his glass. “And _you_ …” You turned to Steve and held your bottle out to him as well. “You are my knight in shining armour.”

Steve smiled a little bashfully as he knocked his own beer against yours. “Don’t mention it.” 

As you took a sip and shifted your weight to your left foot, your heel slipped and you stumbled. He caught your arm to steady you, and you shot him a grateful look. 

“Okay, that’s the last straw. I need to go find a more comfortable pair of shoes,” you announced with a sigh, shaking your head. “You boys have fun, and I’ll be back when I can walk like a normal person again.”

You held a hand out to Sam. “Nice to meet you, Sam. Don’t be a stranger.”

Sam grinned as he shook your hand. “I won’t.”

“Steve—” 

When you turned to him, you had the same enigmatic, slightly heated look in your eyes from earlier, and he had to fight the sudden temptation to wrap an arm around your waist again and draw you back against him. 

“Thanks for saving me,” you finished simply. With one last soft smile, you darted up to plant a light kiss on his cheek and slipped away, leaving him with a faint blush rising on his face.

Steve watched you walk away, and when he turned back, Sam was smirking at him.

"What?" Steve asked defensively.

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at his glass. "Nothing, man. Just…"

“What?” Steve repeated, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Sam shrugged, leaning nonchalantly back against the bar. “Like I said before. Nothing complicated about it.”


	5. A Movie Night

Steve levelled a hard stare at Sam. “You need to drop it.” 

“And _you_ need to man the hell up,” Sam retorted. “You’ve been dancing around this thing for ages. She’s not gonna wait around forever. You need to talk to her.”

“What’re we talking about?” Natasha asked as she walked in and dropped gracefully into an armchair. 

“Nothing,” Steve said, at the same time that Sam said “Steve’s love life.” 

Steve shot him another glare, and Sam just shrugged.

Natasha smirked, draping a leg over the armrest. “Ah. Still hasn’t made a move, huh?”

Sam shook his head in frustration. “I have no idea why.” 

“It’s always the same excuses.”

“It’s a bunch of nonsense, is what it is.”

Steve looked between Sam and Natasha, brow furrowed. “Do you two talk about this when I’m not around?”

“Would you prefer to be part of the conversation?” Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’d _prefer_ it if you both kept out of my business,” Steve said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam snorted. “And _we’d_ prefer it if you got your head out of your ass and made a move, but here we are.”

Natasha hummed in agreement, and Steve shook his head in annoyance.

“I’ve already told you— _both_ of you—” he glared from Sam to Natasha, “—that it’s not gonna happen.”

“Don’t give us all that ‘ _it’s complicated, we work together_ ’ bullshit again, man," Sam sighed. "It’s getting old, and frankly, it’s a terrible excuse.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he stared resolutely down at the coffee table. 

“Seriously, Steve. What could you possibly be afraid of?” Natasha probed. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She lights up like a Christmas tree whenever you’re around.”

“And she doesn’t act that way with any other guy, believe me,” Sam added. 

Steve released a huff, but didn’t look up. 

“So, what’s the problem?” Natasha continued. “Just ask her out to dinner, tell her how you feel. The worst that happens is she says no and you go back to being friends.”

Steve sighed. His friendship with you had developed steadily over time, but ever since the team had moved into the compound, it felt like he had reached an entirely new level of closeness with you. He knew that there were only a privileged few with whom you were comfortable enough to drop the playful demeanour you normally wore like armour, and it honoured him to know that he could now count himself among them. These days, he caught much more than just mere glimpses of your softer side. 

But he was afraid that if he admitted just how deep his feelings for you actually were and you ultimately turned him down, all of that easy intimacy would disappear. You might still joke around with him like you did with everyone else, but he would lose you all the same—the softer, more vulnerable you; the you who was comfortable enough to open up to him; the you who, with just a small smile and an understanding look, could somehow encourage him to open up in return. He wasn’t ready to risk the closeness he had gained with you for the sake of feelings he wasn’t sure you even reciprocated. 

“You can’t always go back to the way things were,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, well, the more likely scenario is that she says yes and things change for the better,” Sam said.

“He’s right, Steve. Take the leap,” Natasha encouraged. “You two could be good together.”

Steve shook his head and looked from one friend to the other. “Are you both done?”

Sam shrugged again and Natasha just gave a tiny half-smirk.

“Good. Because we’re not talking about this again,” Steve warned. “She and I are just friends, and I’m not going to—”

He was interrupted by your cheerful voice saying, “I’ve got the popcorn!” as you walked into the room through the opposite wall, holding a huge bowl.

Steve immediately fell silent and shot Sam and Natasha a cautioning look as Vision followed behind you through the wall, while Wanda entered via the open door.

“You and Vision have no respect for doors,” Sam told you with a shake of his head, swiping a handful of popcorn as you approached his chair. 

"I am trying," Vision responded apologetically as he sat down at one end of the other couch.

“Ignore him, Vis, you’re doing great,” Wanda reassured him as she dropped down next to him. 

"I don't get why you guys are always so startled by us anyway," you grumbled good-naturedly as you set the bowl down on the coffee table. “Half the walls in this building are made of glass, and you’re a group of highly-trained operatives. _And_ one of you can read minds. You should be able to tell when one of us is coming.”

As you spoke, you settled next to Steve on the couch and tucked your feet up underneath you. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Natasha raise an eyebrow pointedly at him. He ignored her.

“You are also a highly-trained operative,” Wanda pointed out, using her telekinesis to pull some popcorn towards her. “Specialising in stealth, in fact.”

You pulled a blanket off the arm of the couch and spread it over your legs. “Hm. Okay, you got me there.” You shrugged and leaned forward for the popcorn, having to stretch a little across Steve to reach the bowl. He cleared his throat and shifted when your arm brushed his leg, but you didn’t seem to notice.

"So, what are we watching tonight?" you asked, your mouth half full.

In answer, Sam picked up the remote to dim the lights and turn the screen on, and you let out a groan at the title queued up to play.

“Seriously, Sam? You picked _Bad Boys_?” 

“Hey, it’s a classic,” Sam defended himself.

“ _Casablanca_ is a classic. _The Godfather_ is a classic. _Pulp Fiction_ is a classic. But _Bad Boys_...?” You threw a popcorn kernel at Sam’s head, which he easily dodged. “ _Bad Boys_ is just one unrealistic set piece after another disguised as a formulaic buddy-cop story.”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Vision said quietly to Wanda, who just smiled and told him not to worry about it. 

“Cut it out, you two,” Natasha broke in lazily, addressing you and Sam. “You know the movie night rules. Y/N, if you don’t want to watch, just take a nap.”

Pouting a little as Sam pressed play, you nestled back against the couch, rearranging your blanket and trying to get more comfortable. All of your squirming just shifted you closer to Steve, until you were near enough that he could feel the heat of your skin even though you weren’t quite touching him.

Your proximity made it difficult for him to focus. He did his best to ignore you and concentrate on the movie, but all of that effort went out the window around the halfway point when he felt your head loll onto his shoulder. 

He tensed and chanced a glance down at you. You were fast asleep, eyelids fluttering and lips parted slightly, your hair falling over your cheek. You looked utterly relaxed. Content. Beautiful. 

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and tucked the errant strands behind your ear. You stirred at his touch and he froze, afraid he’d been caught, but you just released a quiet sigh and nuzzled a little further into his shoulder. He felt his body relax back into the couch, and he smiled fondly down at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the screen, relishing in the warm weight of you against him. 

You were still asleep when the movie ended. As Sam turned the lights on, Steve shushed the rest of the team with a finger to his lips, indicating towards your sleeping form with a minute tilt of his head.

Wanda raised an eyebrow when she saw you leaning against Steve, but she just whispered "Good night" and slipped out of the room, closely followed by Vision. Natasha likewise exited quietly, but not before tossing a knowing smirk at Steve. 

_Talk to her_ , Sam mouthed at Steve with a pointed look as he walked past with the now-empty popcorn bowl. Steve just rolled his eyes and shook his head at him.

He waited until everyone had left the room before very carefully sliding out from under you, laying you down on your side on the couch. He picked up the blanket from where it had fallen to the floor, and draped it gently over your body. 

Your hair had drifted back across your cheek, and he tucked it behind your ear again, keeping his touch light so as not to wake you. In sleep, your face had shed its mask of playfulness, and instead had taken on that soft, vulnerable quality that had always intrigued him. 

As he gazed down at you, he felt the flutter in his chest that he had come to associate with his feelings for you: a strange combination of exhilaration and affection and longing that he tried to push down most of the time. But right now, you were asleep, and you couldn’t see his face. So he let himself feel the full force of it, just for a moment, allowing the wave to crest and crash over him. Then he took a deep breath, turned the lights out again, and began to leave the room.

Just as he reached the door, he heard you sigh out, low and breathy: “Steve.”

Startled, he turned back, but he could see that you were still asleep, your chest rising and falling steadily with your breathing. There was a tiny, soft smile playing about your lips, and it made him wonder: what were you dreaming about? 

Natasha’s words from earlier came back to him, unbidden. _I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Take the leap. You two could be good together._

For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine that you might care for him the way he cared for you. Then with one last lingering glance at your sleeping form, he walked away.


	6. A Confession

You couldn’t concentrate.

Your book lay open on your lap, but given that you had been staring at the same page for ten minutes, you decided it was time to give up the charade—after all, it wasn’t like anyone was watching. You slipped your bookmark inside and set the book on the small table next to you, turning your full attention to the reason for your lack of focus.

Steve lay stretched out on the bed, eyes closed, breathing deep and even. He looked peaceful, almost as if he was taking an afternoon nap after a busy day.

Except, of course, for the fact that he never took naps. And the fact that he was lying in the medical bay.

You nibbled on the edge of a thumbnail as you studied him. The many cuts and contusions on his face and body were already mostly healed. Dr Cho had said that the drugs would dull his pain, help him sleep and boost his body's natural regenerative functions, and they had clearly worked as intended. Now it was just a matter of waiting for him to wake up.

It felt strange for you to be sitting here like this. Nearly every other member of the team, including you, had been in his position before, knocked out in the medical bay while everyone else waited for them to open their eyes. But Steve… he didn’t get hurt like this. When he got hit, he shook it off and stood back up. When he got hurt, all he ever needed was a quick patch job and his enhanced cells took care of the rest. He was Captain America. Super-soldier. Practically indestructible.

But now here you were, waiting by his bedside while he lay unconscious. You hadn’t realised until now that you had been taking it for granted that he would always come back, if not totally unscathed, then at least relatively uninjured. After all, even despite his tendency towards heroic self-sacrifice, he always had before. You knew all the stories. You’d even been there for some of them.

This mission had been a reminder that, despite all of his wit and skill and serum-enhanced ability, he was still wholly human and wholly vulnerable. It had terrified you. You had remembered that it was possible to lose him. And it felt like you had come pretty close. 

You shifted a little, trying to stretch out your muscles, back stiff from being in one position for so long. You had been sitting in this chair almost continuously since the medical team had moved him here yesterday morning. There had been other visitors, of course: Natasha had been in and out several times, Wanda and Vision had brought coffee and snacks, and Sam had spent most of last night hanging out in the room with you. But for the past few hours, you had been alone with Steve and your thoughts. And there had been plenty to think about.

When you first took up your vigil, it had been hard to do anything but dwell on your fears. You kept reliving everything you had felt: the sheer panic that had flooded you when you and Vision had finally pushed through the debris and found Steve's battered and unconscious form; the sickening dread you had wrestled with during the journey home; the anxiety that had gnawed at you while the medical team had worked away on him.

As the hours passed and you started to see the results of Dr Cho’s work and Steve’s own regenerative cells, it had become easier to set aside those harrowing memories. You stopped thinking about what had happened—and what had _almost_ happened—and started thinking about what might come next. You knew you wanted to be here when he woke up, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to say when he did.

You found yourself thinking about all the times in the past few years when you had been on the brink of opening up and telling him everything you felt for him. All the times when he had looked at you and you had caught a hint of something warmer in his gaze, something that had given you a faint glimmer of hope that he might feel the same way about you. All the times when you had lost your nerve at the last second and covered it up with a joke or a rapid change of subject, telling yourself that it was okay because surely there would be another opportunity in the future. 

This mission and its aftermath had been your wake-up call. It had taken the fear of almost losing him for you to remember that life was short, no matter how scientifically enhanced that life was, and especially so in your line of work. You couldn’t keep waiting around for the perfect moment to be honest with him about your feelings. You had to make your own moment.

Steve stirred, the movement bringing you out of your reverie. You drew your chair a little closer as he turned his head in your direction. His long eyelashes fluttered open, and his vision gradually focused on you as he regained consciousness. 

“Hey there,” you greeted him softly. 

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He sounded groggy and disoriented, no doubt still feeling the effects of Dr Cho’s specially-designed chemical cocktail.

He rubbed a hand across his face as he slowly pushed himself upright against his pillow. Taking in his surroundings, he frowned. “What am _I_ doing here?”

“You mean, what are you doing in the med bay?” You raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Steve, an entire building collapsed on top of you. I don't care how much of a super soldier you are—nobody has that hard of a head."

You watched the confusion slowly clear from his expression as he recalled his last moments of consciousness. 

He looked sharply at you. “Did everyone make it out okay?”

Typical Steve, asking after other people before sparing a thought for his own condition. You would have smiled if you weren’t feeling so emotionally fragile.

“Everyone's fine. No civilian casualties,” you reassured him. “Most of the team got a little banged up, but we're all okay. No major injuries.”

Clearly relieved, he nodded and expelled a long, slow breath. He began looking around the room. The afternoon sun was streaming in through the windows, bathing everything in a soft golden glow. The puzzled frown returned to his face.

“How long have I been out?” he asked, turning back to you.

“About thirty-six hours, give or take,” you told him. He seemed surprised by that. No wonder—it was the longest he’d ever spent unconscious in the medical bay since you’d joined the team. 

“It was that bad, huh?” he said, with a quirk of one eyebrow and the hint of a smile.

You just looked at him soberly, pressing your lips together. He seemed irritatingly cavalier about the whole situation. Logically, you knew that from his perspective, it seemed like everything had worked out just fine, but you were still reeling from the roller-coaster of emotions that had been the past thirty-six hours. So he would have to forgive you if you weren’t quite ready to shake it all off with a smile. 

Your serious expression and lack of response seemed to give him pause, and his blue eyes searched your face. You could tell from the crease forming between his eyebrows that he was taking in the cuts and bruises on your own forehead and cheek, the stiffness of your jaw, the dark circles under your eyes. 

“You been waiting up all this time?” he asked you gently with obvious concern. 

“Not exactly,” you said evasively. 

Steve tilted his head and looked at you sceptically. You sighed. He was always pretty good at reading you. 

“It’s been a rough couple of days,” you admitted quietly. “It was... hard to sleep. I was worried about you.”

“Well, I can’t say I mind waking up to a beautiful woman sitting next to me,” he said with a crooked smile. “But I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me so much.”

At the word ‘beautiful’, you felt a rising flutter in your chest, and you realised that this was it. This was your perfect moment, your big opening to tell him everything that you felt about him. That you would always worry about him, because his happiness and well-being mattered more to you than your own. That you literally could not picture your world without him in it, and for the agonising hours between when you and Vision found him and when he had been moved to this room, you had been completely lost in the dark. That he had found his way into your heart as easily as you slipped through the walls of the compound.

Those gentle blue eyes gazed into yours, and you felt your lips parting, ready to confess. Steve had handed you the perfect opportunity, and your heart screamed at you to take it, seize it, _tell him_ —

But at the last second, you lost your nerve.

“Well, it was gonna be me or Sam,” you said lightly, smoothing your face into your usual smile. Something flashed in his eyes as your mask fell in place, but you couldn’t decipher what it was. “But apparently he’s done this whole _Rocky II_ thing with you before. So he let me do it."

Steve huffed out a breath of laughter and shook his head slightly at the clearly unfamiliar reference. You kept your smile on your face to hide the swirling mass of regret and self-loathing that was building in the pit of your stomach in reaction to your own cowardice. 

Suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to flee, you picked your book up off the table and stood up. 

“I’m gonna get Dr Cho," you said, trying to keep your tone casual. "She wanted to know when you woke up.” 

He nodded and said “Sure,” but you could tell that he was puzzled by your abruptness. 

You paused for a moment, gazing at him, wishing fervently that you had more courage.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” you told him softly. It was a poor substitute for your intended confession, but it was all you could bring yourself to say. 

“Thanks,” he replied, equally softly. 

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but you didn’t wait. You just flashed another small smile and retreated, slipping out through the wall to escape as quickly as possible.

* * * * *

"What's going on with you?" Natasha asked, sliding into the seat across from you at the dining table.

"What? Nothing," you answered in confusion, setting your coffee down. 

"You've been unusually subdued," she pointed out. "Keeping to yourself. Avoiding everyone."

"I haven't been—"

"You have. And I'm not the only one who's noticed," she told you, folding her arms. "Steve asked me if you were alright. Said you seemed a little... distant."

"He did?" you asked, trying to sound casual and keep your expression neutral. 

But you knew who you were trying to fool. Natasha was an expert. There was no way she didn't already know that something was up, and you were willing to bet your life that she knew it had something to do with Steve.

Sure enough, the next question out of her mouth was a blunt, "Did something happen with Steve when you were down in the med bay the other day?"

"No," you answered, a little too quickly. She arched an eyebrow and you knew you’d be caught, but you kept it up anyway. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Call it intuition.” 

Her face was impassive, but you started to squirm a little under her piercing gaze. You glanced down at your mug to avoid her scrutiny, but when you looked up again, you knew she hadn’t wavered. 

"Nothing happened, Nat,” you told her firmly after a beat of silence. 

It was true, after all. You didn’t need to tell her that that was the whole point—that you had planned for _something_ and had ended up doing _nothing_. And she didn’t need to know that you had spent the majority of your time since then chastising yourself for it. 

“The last few days have been… draining, to say the least,” you added. “I’m still decompressing. That’s all."

“Hm.” She stared you down a moment longer, and you did your best to meet her gaze in what you hoped was a steady and unemotional manner. 

To your surprise, she didn’t probe any further. She just nodded and started to get up from the table. “Okay, well, if you’re sure you’re fine…” 

“I am. Thanks.” 

“You might want to talk to Steve, though,” she told you as she began to walk away. “I think he’s worried about you.” 

You weren’t sure whether or not you imagined the wink she aimed at you over her shoulder as she sauntered out.

* * * * *

You didn’t know what Natasha thought was going on between the two of you, but her hint had been obvious: you should talk to Steve. You knew she was right. You knew that if you didn’t finish what you had tried to start, you would always regret it.

And yet, it still took another entire day of overthinking and brooding before you decided that enough was enough. You were a grown woman, an _Avenger_ for God’s sake, and it was time to get a grip. 

You were going to talk to him. And you were going do it properly this time. No pretence, no jokes, no references. Just you. 

You took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

It swung open to reveal a barefoot Steve, his hair still slightly damp from the shower, looking as handsome as ever. The cuts and bruises that had marred his skin just a few days ago had all but disappeared. His simple grey t-shirt clung to his muscular chest; his navy sweatpants hung low on his hips. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Even when you saw him every day, you could still be momentarily stunned by his physical perfection. 

“Hi,” he greeted you, sounding mildly surprised but—you noticed, with a spark of hope—pleased to see you. 

“Hey,” you replied, and you almost winced at the wavering of your voice. “Can we… can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” he responded easily, stepping aside to let you in and shutting the door behind you.

You walked in and crossed the room, stopping in front of the windows. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, gathering your strength, trying to loosen up your shoulders. 

When you turned around to face him, he was leaning back against his desk with his hands on the edge of the desktop, watching you carefully, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. It was hard to meet his gaze so you shifted yours to the floor. 

"You okay?" he asked, ducking his head a little to try and get a better glimpse of your face. “What’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together. Your entire body was wound as tight as a spring—one wrong move and you knew you would flee again, sink right through the floor to escape as quickly as possible, gravity be damned.

But you couldn’t leave. Not until you had said what you came here to say. He deserved that much. _You_ deserved that much.

"I got scared," you blurted out, finally daring to look up at him. 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I got scared,” you repeated quietly. “The other day, in the med bay, when we were talking… I…” 

You trailed off and released a frustrated sigh, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. Steve stayed quiet, studying you with obvious concern. You had thought about this for a long time, but now that you had actually started, you found yourself at a loss. All your carefully-planned words had flown out of your mind. 

You took a deep breath and tried again, more slowly this time. 

“Steve, what happened to you on that mission—it would have killed any other person. When we got to you and I saw you lying there… I’ve never been so terrified in my entire life.” You glanced at Steve and bit your lip. “I know you’ve been hurt before, but this was something else. We didn’t know if you were gonna make it.”

His expression changed, the concern giving way to something apologetic and remorseful. He shifted a little, looking like he wanted to interject, but you rushed to continue. Now that you had finally found your words, they were tumbling and pouring out of you. You were on a speeding train, and there was no jumping off now.

“The whole flight home, I kept thinking, _If Steve survives this, I have to tell him how I feel_. I thought about it the whole time Dr Cho was working on you. I thought about it when I was sitting there next to you in the med bay. And then you woke up, and… I panicked.” You offered a small, wry smile. “You’d think that, given what we do, I’d have a better handle on that whole ‘live each day like it’s your last’ philosophy, but it turns out that I’m a total coward when it comes to emotions.”

The smile faded from your face as you continued. “The thing is… I know the next time we leave for a mission, one of us might not come back. And I don’t want to be afraid of being honest with you any more. I don’t want that kind of regret.” 

With one more deep, steadying breath, you took the leap. 

“The truth is: I love you, Steve. I’ve been in love with you for years, since—God, almost since the day we met. And I just… need you to know that.” 

The words seemed to hang in the air between you. He stared at you with those beautiful blue eyes wide with shock, but you couldn’t quite decipher his expression. 

He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word since you walked into the room and started pouring your heart out, and as your adrenaline began to drain away, you started to get a sinking feeling that this whole endeavour had been a terrible mistake. You felt your back stiffen as you stared down at the floor.

“I know this is a lot, and I didn’t want to–to burden you with anything,” you said quickly, automatically switching to damage control. “Please don’t feel like you need to say anything. It’s okay. I just needed to… You don’t have to—”

In two swift strides, he crossed the room to you. One of his hands took hold of your hip and the other cupped your cheek, drawing you to him, and the rest of your words were cut off as his lips captured yours. 

For a second you were too stunned to react. But as the reality of what was happening dawned on you, you released a tiny sigh and relaxed into him. You kissed him back eagerly, all of the tension dropping away from your shoulders. Your hands, trapped between your bodies, slid up his chest and gripped the soft fabric of his shirt in an effort to pull him closer. His lips were soft yet assertive, his kiss tender yet full of passion. It was everything you dreamed it would be and more.

When you finally came up for air, he rested his forehead against yours, thumb lazily caressing your cheek. You felt giddy and light-headed, your fingers clenching and unclenching against his chest, eyes still closed. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he murmured. 

You opened your eyes and leaned back slightly, still a little dazed.

“Really?” you asked breathlessly, blinking up at him in surprise. “How—how long have you…?” 

He gave you a crooked smile, and you noticed with a little thrill that a soft flush had appeared on his cheeks. He was as affected by this moment as you were. 

“I’ve been attracted to you since the day we met,” he admitted a little bashfully. As he spoke, he slid his hand down from your cheek, fingers skimming over your shoulder and your side until they had reached your other hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “But after you took me out for coffee that time I came back from D.C., I knew I was in over my head.”

You stared at him in wonder. “That was, like… two years ago.”

“I know.” His smile turned rueful. “Sorry it took me a while.”

You shook your head. “I could have told you that day,” you mused regretfully. “I almost did. And there were so many other times when I thought about it, but… it never really worked out.”

He tightened his grip on you and pulled you closer. “We got here eventually.” 

You flattened your hands against his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders, relishing the feeling of his body under your fingers, his hands on your hips. He looked down at you with a heart-stopping smile, and you felt a flutter in your chest as you returned it, the emotional turmoil of the past few days completely forgotten. 

“We’re both idiots,” you sighed. “We could’ve been doing this ages ago. We’ve lost a lot of time.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make up for it,” he told you, in a low voice and with a rakish glint in his eyes that made you shiver in anticipation. 

He leaned down and kissed you again, and you surrendered to the utter perfection of the moment—and the promise of many more to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it! This was my first fic in about seven years and in an entirely new-to-me fandom at that, and I was pretty nervous about putting it out there, so thank you to everyone who has followed along and left comments, kudos or bookmarks! Hope you enjoyed this little bit of escapism in this increasingly crazy world. <3


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